Firm Girls

Chapter 4

Squeezed into one my lowest-cut top and one of Kyra's mini skirts, which was a little longer but tighter on me, I leaned against the bar, for support as much as for the ability to see the people around me. I was balanced on tiny heels and really wishing for sneakers, jeans, and a jacket. But Gina, which was the name on the fake ID in the entirely fake wallet in my purse (just in case sticky fingers came back for seconds), would never wear jeans and sneakers to a club, so I was stuck in this get up.

I needed to get some fake friends quickly, since the text had implied I would be meeting someone here. And I did not want the thieves to get an ID on anyone else on my team, just in case this went south.

I looked around, checking out the posture and faces of the girls nearby.

Whispering friends with angry faces? No thanks.

Grinding on dudes way too close to the bar? Nope.

Storming off the dance floor and banging a twenty on the bar? My kind of girl.

I slipped closer to her. Another girl appeared on her other side, eyes wide.

"I'm really, really sorry, Lo!"

The bartender was looking the other way. I flagged him down and ordered three shots of vodka and a water shot.

He smirked without staring down at my chest and slid them to me. I turned to the girls.

"Here. On me."

The angry girl glared for a second. I needed to convince her we were in the same headspace.

"My ex is at Lava tonight," I invited, letting my eyes narrow. "He's dancing with the girl he cheated on me with."

She groaned in sympathy and reached for the shot. "Girl, that sucks. The guy I slept with last weekend literally forgot my name. He called me 'sugar.' Sugar! Do I look like sugar to you?"

"Nah," I quirked up the corner of my mouth to a wry grin so she'd know I was joking. "You like more like spice to me."

She smiled back at me. "Fuck this. Let's dance."

She grabbed my hand and her other friend, and dragged us to the dance floor.

I felt a little bad using her like this. In another life, maybe we could have been friends.

But I lived in this one, where nothing on a mission was real or true, so I danced with my eyes wide open, looking for my thief.

A set of hands slid down my sides and landed at my waist. I clenched at the overly familiar touch. Yet another reason why I hated clubs. I did not enjoy the feeling of strangers groping my body. I much preferred punching strangers. Preferably in the face. But I would settle for an instep.

"Hello, damsel," a familiar voice chuckled in my ear. "No more falling tonight?"

I spun around, one hand up to brace myself against his chest and place a few inches between us. The thief smiled down at me, cheerfully insolent, missing the usual leer that accompanied such a brazen disregard for my personal space.

"Well, hello," I said, letting my voice rise flirtatiously. My new female friend glowered at us. My thief glanced at the girl and then back at me. I pulled him away by the wrist before she could say anything, pretending I wanted to get somewhere a bit more quiet.

I raised an eyebrow. "Fancy seeing you here."

He nodded solemnly. "It does seem like fate. What are the chances we should run into each other twice in one day?" His voice was cheery and dismissive but his eyes sharpened on my face. We were playing a dangerous game, one neither of us was quite ready to forego.